Page 67 of The Burbs and the Bees
“I am not stubborn.”
“Yeah, you are.” Before she can argue, I say, “I’ll get Beck or Tyler to work it, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She goes quiet, and I carefully and gently wash her with the solution. I move her bra straps, not wanting to miss an inch of her skin.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she says.
“I never met a woman who had trouble with clothes quite the way you do,” I say, a teasing note to my tone.
“This isn’t funny,” she shoots back, but there’s a hint of laughter in her voice. Honest to God, she really is a good sport when she has every reason to be pissed off, especially if this was done on purpose.
“I never said it was.” I stand back and look her over, and my God, she’s even sexy with solution all over her.
Down, boy.
She glares at me. “You’re not supposed to be enjoying this.”
“I know.” I try not to grin but fail miserably. She’s a mess, and I should not be looking at her with lust or groaning with want.
She rolls her eyes. “Men!”
“We’re all the same, eh?” She laughs at my Canadian lingo, and I ask, “Did I miss anything?”
“No, I’m pretty soaked.” She lifts her arms and lets them flop back to her sides. “I believe you’ve now officially seen me at my worst. Hey, do you think you could use that solution on my dignity?”
Wind blows a strand of hair into her mouth, and I tug it away. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“Says the man fully clothed and not reeking of skunk.”
“Stuff like this doesn’t usually happen around these parts,” I explain. “Skunks getting into homes is not normal.” Nope, not normal at all, and until she arrived, my life had been routine and…normal.
Normal?
Maybe I mean boring.
“I’m impressed, really,” I tell her.
“You should be.” She waves her arms over her body. “A city girl losing a fight with a skunk. That is impressive.”
“No, Alyson.” I touch her shoulders. Her gaze moves to mine, and my throat tightens.
Holy shit, Jay. Don’t fall for her.
I swallow and focus my thoughts. “You’ve taken on an orchard you know nothing about, you’re running a market that’s completely foreign to you, and now you’ve been skunked. I don’t know any other woman who could take all that and still smile about it. If that’s not impressive, I don’t know what is. If your people can’t see that, then they all need CAT scans.”
“All of them?”
“All of them.”
She chuckles softly. “Thank you. You and your family have been so kind, Jay.”
“Canadians,” I tease, my gaze dropping to take in the nook on her top lip, so lush and kissable.
“If you want to know,” she begins and casts me a glance, “I don’t like to ask because I don’t want people to see just how little I know about…everything.” She snorts, making light of it, but I get that she’s telling me something very private, something that weighs heavily on her shoulders. “I’m an English Lit major. What the hell do I know about any of this?” she asks.
“I know as much about English Lit as you do about farming, but you’re giving it your damn best shot, and that takes courage.”
“I just don’t like when people look for the worst in me, or expect it, you know?”
Yeah, I know. It’s exactly what I did to her, and she’s going to hate me.
